


Asleep: Baseball AU Edition

by Python07



Series: Asleep [5]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Baseball Jargon, M/M, Minor League Baseball, Pranks, drunk jean, modern baseball AU, small parts for Gaston and Belgard, young Armand and Jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26271436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: Jean doesn't appreciate it when Armand is accused of cheating.
Relationships: Armand Jean du Plessis de Richelieu/de Tréville (Trois Mousquetaires)
Series: Asleep [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1108626
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	Asleep: Baseball AU Edition

After Jean sobered up, he’d realize how lucky he was to have Joseph with him that night. It was Joseph who stopped him from starting a brawl. It was Joseph who left their Skipper and four of their teammates at the bar to distract the other team by challenging them pool and darts. It was Joseph who chose their other mostly sober teammates to buy up every can of soup in town. It was Joseph who lifted the other team’s clean up hitter and resident big mouth’s truck keys. It was Joseph who knew how to drive a stick and got them to a nearby field.

It was a hot, humid night in the middle of July. The two of them sat quietly with the windows open, the ignition on, and rock music on the radio. Jean leaned back in his seat and stretched out to stick his feet out of the window. He shut his eyes.

He jerked awake at the sound of a car horn. He found himself leaning against Joseph’s side. He wiped his mouth. “Sorry.”

Joseph just arched an eyebrow at him. He flicked the headlights on and honked back. He jumped out of the truck. He left the door open.

Jean fell to the side. He crawled out and fell to the ground. He groped for something to haul himself up and ended up using Joseph himself. Joseph made no move to help him but didn’t shake him off either. He finally got to his feet and held his hands up in apology. “I know. I know. I’m the worst idiot and I’m lucky Armand likes me or you’d leave me out here for the animals.” He gave a dopey grin. “At least, I’m the only catcher on the team good at handling his curve.” He laughed. “And I’m cute.”

At that, Joseph rolled his eyes and shoved Jean away. He opened the truck’s passenger door. Then he waved the two approaching cars closer.

Jean stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. He moved to lean on the front of the truck. He scowled as Luca and Concini got out of one car. Concini was a blowhard with more mouth than arm, but he was all right. Luca was not only a crap pitcher but tended to try and flirt with Armand (not that Armand ever noticed). They drunkenly laughed and reached into the back seat for their bags of cans.

Jean’s grin returned when he saw Gaston and Belgard get out of the other car. Gaston would have work hard to hit higher than the Mendoza line, but he had a good glove and speed. Belgard liked to swing out of his shoes. He struck out a lot but he connected a lot too. They’d been teammates and friends since rookie ball and he loved them dearly.

Belgard hefted full paper bags in each arm. “We cleaned out every market and convenience store,” he announced.

Gaston wobbled on his feet and his voice slurred. “All the shelves are bare.”

“We’ve got more in the trunk,” Luca called.

Jean and Joseph went to help. All of them took turns dumping cans. They filled the truck’s cab and bed.

Gaston stood next to Jean, wrapped an arm around Jean’s neck, and planted a sloppy kiss on Jean’s cheek. “I love it, but why soup cans?”

Belgard appeared on Gaston’s other side. He let out a long suffering sigh, grabbed Gaston’s head, and turned it to the side to see the dark shape of the soup factory in the distance.

“Oh,” Gaston pouted. “I forgot.”

Jean burst out laughing. “I would love to see 1 for 12’s face when he sees this.”

Gaston pointed at the number 22 spray painted on the truck’s hood. “That is so redneck.”

Belgard shook his head. “If he gets a call up, he most likely won’t get 22. What’s he gonna do then?”

Jean snorted. “Who cares?”

Joseph tilted his head and the three pitchers piled into Luca’s old beater. “Come on,” Concini yelled. “We can still make it back in time for last call.”

Jean, Gaston, and Belgard barely glanced at each other before they raced back to Belgard’s car. Jean got there first so Gaston had to crawl in the back while Belgard took the wheel. They turned the radio on as loud as possible and sang all the way back into town.

Instead of heading to the bar with the others, Jean returned to the hotel. Their team took up the entire two floors. It felt like forever to get to the door at the end of the hall of the second floor at the opposite end of the bathroom. He had to giggle the key in the lock to get the door open. It took most of the coordination he had left, but he made sure to lock it again.

The room had plain beige walls. There was barely enough room for the two single beds and the rickety night stand between them. A small lamp provided just enough light for him to see. The ancient window AC unit rattled, but worked. 

Armand lay on his side facing away from the light. He was cocooned in a blanket. His long curls covered his face and he snored softly.

Warmth bloomed in Jean’s chest at the sight of him. He quickly and clumsily shed his clothes. He only lost his balance and fell down once.

He climbed to his feet to see that Armand hadn’t stirred. He nodded to himself. He didn’t lunge at the bed. Instead, he made an effort to slow down and be gentle as he pulled away the blanket just enough to slide in next to Armand.

He pressed his bare chest against Armand’s pajama clad back. He could smell Armand’s shampoo and the ointment Armand used on his shoulder on nights that he pitched. He buried his face in those soft curls. He lay still, just to be in the moment with Armand.

He pulled away just enough to brush Armand’s hair out of the way to nuzzle at the back of Armand’s neck. “You were unhittable today,” he murmured against warm skin. “And I got a front row seat to watch you carve them up. You had a no-hitter. I’m sorry. I should’ve been faster to get that dribbler up the line.”

Jean’s hand found its way beneath Armand’s shirt to roam over Armand’s chest. He pressed impossibly closer. His lips found Armand’s jaw. “I always love watching you work.”  
Armand grunted softly. He unconsciously pressed back into Jean’s body. He showed no other signs of waking.

“Can’t take my eyes off you.” Jean peppered light kisses over Armand’s neck and ear. He rested his hand over Armand’s heart. “They had no reason to bother us at the bar and accuse you of cheating.”

Armand didn’t stir.

“Armand,” Jean whispered roughly. “Please.”

Armand still didn’t stir.

Jean buried his nose behind Armand’s ear and inhaled deeply. Then he lightly nipped the lobe. He ran his foot along Armand’s leg.

Armand’s breath caught. He barely turned his head towards Jean. His voice was almost inaudible. “Jean.”

Jean captured Armand’s lips. He tasted the last of the one glass of whiskey Armand allowed himself. The kiss was warm and sweet. It gave him the tingles.

Jean pulled back just enough to see Armand’s face. Armand’s eyes were closed and he smiled softly. There was just the beginnings of a flush to his cheeks.

Armand’s nose wrinkled. “You taste like stale Budweiser.” He turned his head back, away from Jean. “And smell like it, too.”

Jean nuzzled and kissed Armand. He stroked his skin and rubbed against him. He worked on tempting him but Armand didn’t react. He trailed his hand over Armand’s hip and tried to slip down into his pajama pants.

Armand grabbed Jean’s wrist. “No.”

“Fine,” Jean growled. He rolled out of bed. He threw on his shorts and grabbed one of the thin hotel towels and his bag of toiletries. He stalked down the hall to the bathroom.  
Jean took a quick shower and brushed his teeth at the same time. The water started out lukewarm and was cold by the time he finished. He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and returned to their room.

By the time the door was safely locked again, his buzz and erection were gone. He simply stripped out of the towel, crawled back into bed, and curled around Armand. He shut his eyes and he was asleep.

In the morning, a bunch of hung over ballplayers (except for Armand and Joseph) trudged onto the team bus. Armand sat next to the window so he had plenty of light to read his book. Jean dropped heavily into the seat next to him. 

Jean leaned in. “Where did you disappear to this morning?”

Armand gave a small smile. “Breakfast.” 

Jean blanched at the thought of food. He rubbed his stomach. “Yeah, I’m feeling a little rough.”

“That’s what I thought.”  
The bus passed the local church on the way out of town. The sign outside read: Number 22: 1-12. Come in and pray. He needs all the help he can get.  
Jean’s eyes got wide. He stared at Armand. “That’s not what that sign said yesterday.”  
Armand shrugged. He didn’t raise his eyes from his book. “I don’t need to cheat.”

**Author's Note:**

> The baseball AU universe is Buffy's idea. I'm just playing in her sandbox.


End file.
